Remembering Tony Curtis, 1925-2010

The actor, who died today of cardiac arrest at his home in Henderson, Nev., was 85.

He appeared in more than 140 movies during his celebrated career, including "Some Like It Hot," which was voted the funniest movie of all time by the American Film Institute, but the life lesson he imparted to me was not included in any role.

The lesson came up in an interview to promote his 1990 autobiography.

We were sitting in a Beverly Hills hotel suite, and I made a comment about his lengthy career. I marveled at how exciting his life must have been, even with the six marriages and bouts with substance abuse.

He looked me in the eye and offered this bit of sage advice:

"In 1948, I was in a stage play in New York City called 'Golden Boy' and some movie scout saw me in that play and gave me a movie contract. They put me on a plane, and a day after I arrived in Hollywood, I was on a movie set. It was the most exciting day of my life. I had a small role, playing Yvonne De Carlo's dance partner in the film "Criss Cross."

"At the end of the day, I was feeling on top of the world. I went back to the little apartment I had rented and jumped in the shower. I stepped out of the shower, and now I'm here with you."

He sat back and stopped talking. A slight smile crossed his face, as I tried to grasp what he had said.

"But you've had a long, amazing life in between those two moments," I said.

"No, I was in that shower one minute, and then I stepped out of the shower the next minute and I'm sitting here with you."

"But you have all those memories," I said in almost a pleading tone.

"No, I stepped out of that shower and here I am."

I gave up. I got the point. Life is short. One minute, you're the best-looking young man on the planet with a new movie contract in your back pocket and the world at your feet, and the next minute, you're a man nearing his 70th birthday trying to sell a book in an attempt to make a few bucks and reclaim a tiny bit of glory.

It was a cynical observation, but a good observation.

Live every moment to the fullest. Who could argue with that? One minute, I'm talking to Tony Curtis, and the next minute, I'm writing about his death 17 years later.

Born Bernard Schwartz in the Bronx, he took the stage name Anthony Curtis, which was shortened to Tony after his eighth movie. His first major role was in the 1953 biopic "Houdini," in which he played the famed illusionist and escape artist. He met his future wife of 12 years, Janet Leigh, on that film, and their daughter Jamie Lee Curtis followed her parents into the family business.

Among her father's biggest film roles were "The Defiant Ones," for which he was nominated for an Oscar, "The Sweet Smell of Success," "Operation Petticoat" and "Spartacus."

Although he had been in the movie business seven years before "Trapeze" came out in 1956, that's when I was first aware of Curtis.

It had a tremendous impact on me as a child. I already loved movies, but my movie-going experience was limited to Saturday afternoon matinees, where I gathered with all my friends to watch second-rate Westerns and cheesy science-fiction flicks. "Trapeze" was the first "real" movie I ever saw in a theater, and it was the thrill of a brief lifetime to sit in my local theater on a Sunday afternoon with adults, rather than on Saturday afternoon with my goofy friends. .

In the 1956 film, Curtis and Burt Lancaster were daring trapeze performers in a European circus, and Gina Lollobrigida was the woman who came between them. You didn't have to be a little boy in a darkened theater to appreciate Gina Lollobrigida.

The romantic triangle angle turned it into a soap opera of sorts, but I didn't know any better back then, and I couldn't tell you today whether "Trapeze" holds up as a great movie because I haven't seen it since I saw it a second time that same afternoon so many years ago. I was so enthralled by the movie experience, I couldn't leave the theater. It was a magical afternoon, and I think it is that same sense of magic that continues to pull me into darkened theaters.

Tony Curtis played a role in making me fall in love with movies, so his "life is short" lesson pales in comparison.